Just Desserts and the Color of His Skin
by prosto666
Summary: He fought it-man did he fight it. But he just had to look at him for gods sake and he had never wanted to hide in the shadows more than he did then. Because he was sunlight, the stabbing, blinding kind you get when you've been in a dark place for too long. Then your eyes adjust, and next thing you know, you're lost. If that was the case, Nico never wanted to be found.


**Hey there! Hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it! Soangelo :)**

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><p><strong>Humble beginnings.<strong>

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><p>He should've left when he had the chance.<p>

Life had been better when he didn't have friends, things were much less complicated when he didn't have to care about anyone but himself. Lonely, yes, but blissfully _simplistic_. All the heartache and conflicting emotions, the weight of someone elses' expectations, it didn't seem like a fair trade. The others-Jason and Piper, Annabeth and Percy, Frank and Hazel, Leo and Calypso-they all made it look so damn _easy_. When it was anything but. Things were nice, for awhile, but he should've know he would ruin it one way or another. He always did.

Five months came and went, and slowly but surely, camp was healing. It was almost poetically ironic how being on the brink of an all out war with one another could unite the romans and greeks so quickly, but he guessed there was common ground to be found when the Earth mother tries to kill everyone and take over the world. Different colored t-shirts aside, most saw kids just like themselves-screwed over by some all powerful deity who couldn't couldn't be bothered to acknowledge their existence unless it benefited theirs, hapless teenagers left to pay the consequences of their parents mistakes. To fight their battles and shoulder the blame. Bad blood rapidly lost it's meaning when so much had been spilt on its behalf.

A fragile sense of normality held the camp-and him-together like cheap scotch tape.

As the wounded were tended to, the dead buried and celebration feasts held, he felt, for once, he could live peacefully. That he had finally found his place, that he could be the exception his father wanted him to be-and the opportunity was right there in front of him, all he had to do was reach out and take it, but then he remembered who he was. He was Nico Di Angelo, son of someone who didn't get the benefit of the doubt, who hadn't been welcomed anywhere in a long time. But Jason persuaded him to stay, he promised it would be different, and he believed him. He wanted it to be true, a part of him wanted it so much it _hurt_, so he stayed and the others met him with open arms and kind, accepting smiles.

And then there was the son of Apollo.

Will Solace was someone he couldn't quite figure out. And it bothered him, more than it should have, and _that _bothered him even _more_. He didn't make friends easily, with very few exceptions, and his social skills were nothing short of pathetic. Will made him uneasy with his sunny disposition, bright blue eyes, blinding smile and his stubborn persistence to follow him around. Nico didn't think one person could be so laid back and irritating simultaneously. Not to mention the older boy didn't seem to respect personal boundaries, often giving him a heart attack when he'd come out of no where and drape an arm around his shoulders like they were old friends. He would be lying if he denied that the son of Apollo was unattractive-all blonde hair, tanned, tall and athletic-but Nico quickly squashed any such thoughts and focused on being just friends, and _only _friends. He knew there was no chance someone like Will would ever like someone like him. He had finally rid himself of the burden he'd been carrying for years, confessed his secret feelings for Percy, he didn't want to replace it with a new weight. Not when he was finally free.

So he kept his distance, well more like tried, but Will solace wouldn't take a hint. After his mandatory three days in the infirmary-oddly enough the one place where Nico saw him the least, as head healer he was pretty busy running around, helping others-he quickly left and steered clear of the Apollo cabin for a few days. He needed to clear his head, Will was just too _bright_. It didn't take long for him to be found though-he always seemed to know exactly where he was-and he never heard the end of it from him. But it wasn't like he owed him much, he would've recovered fine without his help, and Nico just couldn't understand the guys interest in him. Everyone else left him alone, why couldn't he? He was embarrassed and irritated how many days he spent thinking about it, how much time he spent trying to figure him out. Nico wasn't the kind of guy who you made friends with without wanting something-again, with few exceptions-but Will didn't seem to have an ulterior motive. He seemed to just want to be friends.

Begrudgingly-mostly from Nico's side-they slowly became just that-good friends. Nico figured if he couldn't get rid of him, he might as well tolerate him, and he quickly found they had a surprising amount of things in common. It was almost unsettling considering the fact they were practically polar opposites. It was probably an entertaining sight whenever they walked around camp together-the son of the god of Death and the son of the God of Light. He still annoyed him to no end, but next thing he knew-it had certainly snuck up on him-they were doing just about everything together. Jason and Percy would still eat with him during meals, but sometimes Will would join them too. The looks they received, the unwanted attention made him uncomfortable-he didn't want the others to get the wrong idea-but Will was blatantly oblivious. They would spar together, Will would teach him archery and Nico would lend a hand in the infirmary when he could. It came to a point that if Will wasn't with him for whatever reason, he felt _lonely_, and more than his usual loneliness. It was a faint ache in his chest, an explainable uneasiness. The weird thing was, over time, he didn't _mind _his presence. It was something he wasnt use to, something he hadn't felt since Bianca- it was comforting, _warm_.

And thats when he knew he was seriously fucked.

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><p>It was the eyes, those <em>damn <em>eyes.

He never really looked at them before-the kid freaked him out too much to make eye contact back then-but on Half Blood hill, when he had spun around and nearly decapitated him, he didn't know how he could've missed them. With the sharp tip of his nightmarish blade hovering just an inch away from his throat, they were wide with surprise and instantly captivated him. The rising sun illuminated his head like a halo, blocking out everything but him. It was then he noticed his eyes weren't just black, they were ringed with the richest, deepest shade of brown he had ever seen.

Oh Gods, he sounded like a Nicholas Sparks novel.

It was just an observation-a completely _innocent _observation-and nothing more. He stuck with that excuse for almost a year and a half. Before it hit him like a bag of bricks.

He remembered the day it started-couldn't really forget it even if he tried.

It was Nico's last day in the infirmary-he had ignored the dull ache at the thought-and he had sent him in the back to change out of the camp's standard, mint green hospital gown into his usual black assemble. Then one of his siblings asked him to get more bandages from the back. He didn't even think about, maybe he had forgotten, he couldn't remember the reason, but like an idiot he pulls back the curtain and walks in on a shirtless son of Hades. _Oh_. His skin was smooth and pale, and he could see a scattering of spidry thin scars across his back. He was lean, the curve of his shoulderblades stuck out, and his hips... For a moment, neither of them moved, he had been frozen in place, and Nico was halfway through putting his shirt on.

_Oh_.

Then the younger boy simply scowled, tugged the article of clothing over his head and brushed past him.

"Ever heard of _knocking_." He growled, then was gone. Will continue to stand there, blinking. A bolt of lightning had struck him, sending not unpleasant tingles rocketing through his limbs. Gone just as quick as it had come, that he couldn't but a name to the-the _something _that made his heart beat funny. Then his lips curled just slightly at the corners, until he was grinning like an idiot with _no _idea why, his face flushed with not unpleasant heat. Maybe it was a trick of the light, he had gotten very little sleep in the last 48 hours, so it could've been all in his head. But just for a moment, before it was blocked by a flash of black cotton, before he had practically sprinted away-

A faint blush, a light dusting of pink on Nico's cheeks.

He ran a hand through shaggy blond hair, exhaled heavily through his nostrils.

_Shit_.

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><p>Love isn't about getting what you want, it's about surviving what you don't.<p>

-Charlie


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